When you work with small children there is a magic moment you feel the first time a new child holds your hand. I never realized exactly what it was before, an acceptance, a connection, a moment of truth...a pivotal bridge when they realize grabbing your hand is in fact better then walking alone.
There are many children I've worked with and spent time with and seen this phenomena over and over, and the beauty of it is that it is universal. Africa, Brazil, Europe, in the prisons, younger people and older...most of us like to touch hands. In the united states we shake hands for greeting, a high five for a good job, in Asia we put our hands together and acknowledge others with a small bow.
The other day a small five year old boy that is quite rambuncious and un-affectionate in many ways walked up beside me as I was ushering a group of twenty or so children to our next destination and out of what felt to me like no where grabbed my hand. He is a rough and tumble child, and for him to hold still, let alone grab my hand a hold it quite fiercely for the duration of a lengthy walk was something. I found myself not wanting to move to quickly or to slowing to not loose his stride, not wanting to talk to much or to little to disturb the contact. He didn't say that much in the walk, except I knew that our connection had been made and it had some how cemented in that moment. Towards the end of our walk another young boy came up to him and started yelping and hitting him in the back, and he said "Hey, you should hold Simones' hand, it feels good...and you should get it before someone else does, she only has two." It made me laugh but try to stifle my out burst as the other little boy grabbed my hand. We walked in silence, they were calm, I looked down at my hands and thought...you know quite often a small gesture is much more powerful then words. Use your hands, after all, you only have two.
There are many children I've worked with and spent time with and seen this phenomena over and over, and the beauty of it is that it is universal. Africa, Brazil, Europe, in the prisons, younger people and older...most of us like to touch hands. In the united states we shake hands for greeting, a high five for a good job, in Asia we put our hands together and acknowledge others with a small bow.
The other day a small five year old boy that is quite rambuncious and un-affectionate in many ways walked up beside me as I was ushering a group of twenty or so children to our next destination and out of what felt to me like no where grabbed my hand. He is a rough and tumble child, and for him to hold still, let alone grab my hand a hold it quite fiercely for the duration of a lengthy walk was something. I found myself not wanting to move to quickly or to slowing to not loose his stride, not wanting to talk to much or to little to disturb the contact. He didn't say that much in the walk, except I knew that our connection had been made and it had some how cemented in that moment. Towards the end of our walk another young boy came up to him and started yelping and hitting him in the back, and he said "Hey, you should hold Simones' hand, it feels good...and you should get it before someone else does, she only has two." It made me laugh but try to stifle my out burst as the other little boy grabbed my hand. We walked in silence, they were calm, I looked down at my hands and thought...you know quite often a small gesture is much more powerful then words. Use your hands, after all, you only have two.
